


The Dockyard Deduction

by Silvamoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Detectives, M/M, Missing Persons, Mystery, dick means detective, yes I wrote this partly to use that joke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 10:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvamoon/pseuds/Silvamoon
Summary: Set in a 1940s alternate universe, Keith comes to enlist the services of Lance McClain, Private Eye. Together they must track down Keith's missing brother, Shiro, and in the process possibly untangle the city's string of mysterious disappearances. The two might even become the greatest mystery solving partnership Altea has ever seen. All if they can survive being around each other first.





	The Dockyard Deduction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Keith Big Bang, I've had this idea for a bit and hopefully I did it justice. Use of some 1940s slang, but should be understandable. I freely admit that part of this was written to be immature and use some 'Dick' jokes. Where dick is slang for detective. Enjoy!  
Of course none of this would've been possible without my wonderful art partner, Caffeinepatches. I really don't deserve you!  
[Caffeinepatches Site](https://caffeinepatches.tumblr.com/)

_Altea. Everyone knew it was a picture perfect city: Clean streets, good schools; it was the sort of place families would give up their last dime to have a shot of living there. It didn’t matter that a new home sat in a row of ten others just like it. Altea was the place where dreams came true, or at least that’s how it looked on the outside anyway. What many didn’t know, or pretended not to know, was the existence of Altea’s dark side. But that’s where he came in, Lance McClain, Altea’s best (if not only), private eye. _

_Evenings were always the busiest. A time where all the riff raff filled the streets like cockroaches swarming a greasy cheese sandwich that had been left to rot in the sun. The cases consisted of anything from tracking down a thief, to a cheating spouse, or anywhere in between. Except tonight happened to be Monday. The day where the thugs stayed unusually quiet and the most exciting thing he could count on was old Mrs. Porter losing her cat again. _

_She was a sweet lady and always gave him a piece of fresh apple pie for the trouble. Frankly, he thought she tossed the cat outside on purpose because she was lonely. The darnn thing always ended up being in the most obvious places, like today; found hiding in a plant pot in Mrs. Porter’s living room. For the ‘trouble’ he received the usual reward as well as an offer for a cup of tea and the chance to chat. He refused. Being a detective wasn’t about the reward or gratitude. It was just the right thing to do. If the only drink to wet his lips was the blood, sweat, and tears of the job, then so be it. That’s what this was all about, being able to help others no matter how thankless it was. Though sometimes the world was too cruel. All he had wanted was to curl up inside his office and finish the pie before the next case came. But the universe decided that before he could get one taste of that sweet, crispy crust, a dame walked into the room._

“I’m no dame.”

Lance glanced at the man who had so rudely interrupted him. “A-bup-bup! I’m know that. Shush.” Sure, he could see his mistake now. But it hadn’t been his fault. What sort of chump walked around with hair like that? Long and black, it hung down to the guy’s shoulders, somehow capturing the same indifferent look the guy wore right now. Only someone without the slightest sense for fashion, or was extremely confident, would ever pick such a style. ...It looked better than it should have. So of course when Lance spotted someone come in with hair like that, he had immediately assumed dame before getting a good look.Thank goodness for the small blessing that he caught himself before spouting off a corny ‘So what’s a dame like you doing in a place like this?’

“Look…” the man cut in again, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you can’t help me, I’ll just go and find another Dick.”

Geez no one had patience for a good monologue anymore. Lance almost laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“...” He was trapped and he knew it. Sure, there were other detectives, but most of them were crooked or refused to take on anything serious. That meant this guy had to be here because he was desperate.

Indigo eyes glared back at him, which were also nicer on a guy than they had any right to be. They reminded him of Altea; pretty on the outside, deadly on the inside. Maybe that was why he decided to continue like nothing had happened. “Alright. Let’s get down to business, uh…” he paused, he had forgotten to ask for a name.

“Keith,” the guy supplied.

“Right. Now what’s this all about?” He pushed the untouched pie away, already colder than the icy look Keith gave him.

“Now you want to be serious?”

“I’m always serious about my job. I just don’t always look like I always have a stick up my ass. Unlike _someone_,” Lance challenged. Gosh, what was it about this guy? Usually, he cranked up the charm for clients, lure them in with a few sweet words to seal the job, but something about Keith rubbed him the wrong way.

“I just want to know if you can actually help or not?” Keith snapped, voice firm.

“Maaaybbe,” Lance drawled out. Some part of him sensed that Keith was the type who _would_ go off on his own if he had to, possibly even expected to be refused. Plus it might’ve been a trick of his imagination, but Keith’s question had something almost fragile to the tone.The thought made it hard to continue being stubborn “Depends what it is.”

He fully thought that was the point where he lost the job. That Keith had enough of the back and forth, and would either turn around to storm out the door, or finally snap and start yelling. Instead, Keith closed his eyes, took a breath, and answered. “...I’m looking for my brother.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

_Takeshi Shirogane ‘Shiro’ last seen yesterday morning. Went off to his normal shift at Altea Air Industry and never returned. Usually the prime example of a model employee; never called in sick, rarely took vacation days, and always prompt. First started working at the company three years ago after moving to the city with his adopted brother, Keith Kogane._

“Oh hey! That’s you!” Lance looked up from the file Keith had tossed on his desk.

“Just keep reading.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He continued reading. Unfortunately, such situations weren’t uncommon. Families that couldn’t afford the costs of moving would manage to scrape their savings together and send their kids into the city for a chance at a better life. Hoping they’d get a job, get married, and maybe one day be able to afford to bring their parents to Altea to live out the rest of their days in peace. A lot of the time it worked, happy end, rinse and repeat for the next lucky family. Other times it ended up like this. Lance had worked on more missing cases than he could count, and he wished he could say the majority ended well.

Still, Keith had done his research at least. Paging through the file revealed a small stack of hastily written down notes of Shiro’s common hangouts, friends, acquaintances, and… “Is this a suspect list?”

“What?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, obviously not seeing the problem. “Shiro gets along with almost everyone. Those are the ones he actually complains about.”

“That’s...not exactly a motive,” Lance pointed out.

“They have to know something!” Keith shouted.

That seemed doubtful. All the names were of other Altea Air Industry employees, some more prominent than others. To be honest, it clearly showed the actions of someone who was grasping at straws. But could he blame him? Lance could only imagine what he’d do if something happened to any of his family--even Veronica. For as much as his siblings tormented him, he wouldn’t trade them for anything, and this Shiro sounded like the only family Keith had left. Was it even an option to refuse to help?

“Alright, tone it down.” Lance gestured. “I just don’t want to waste time on maybes when we could be out finding your brother.”

Keith actually made an effort to calm himself, crossing his arms and digging his fingers in hard enough to probably leave marks, but at least he wasn’t yelling. It was only then that he seemed to register the words, and something like hope flickered across his face. “So does that mean…?”

As if it wasn’t obvious already, he almost wanted to laugh. Offering to find a missing relative wasn’t something he’d even consider joking about. “Hey, I’ll have you know that I never turn down someone in need. Even someone like you.”

“What does that mean?” Keith’s face scrunched up.

“Nothing, nothing.” He grinned and stood up, grabbing his coat to put in on with a smooth sweeping motion. “Though since you asked. It means that you have bad fashion, worse hair, and this case is gonna be nothing but trouble, but I’ll do it.”

“Whatever. I’m still coming with you,” Keith replied with a tone that left no room for argument.

Well that was fine by him, having a partner along wasn’t something he was used to, but as long as Keith didn’t get in his way, there was a first time for everything.

* * *

_There was something fishy about this case, something that reeked more than Sal’s ‘fresh’ cod at the end of the day. Call it intuition, but it had all the warning signs of something big. Something that would either boost him to ‘Lance McClain: Altea’s greatest’ or would only merit a brief ‘Local Dick found dead’ obituary page. He told himself that the latter would never happen, even if the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Still when they turned into a dark alley, the future looked grim. There was only one reason that they found themselves in a place like this, scrambling over small trash heaps like common rats, barely avoiding stepping on old, dirty banana peels, and that reason was...Keith Kogane was an idiot!_

“Do you ever stop talking?” Keith asked bitterly. “And I’m not an idiot. I said that we needed to question the people on the list, and the first one lives near here.”

Lance didn’t know when their roles had gotten switched. He had started off insisting that they needed to go to a reliable source first, but somewhere along the way Keith had made a compelling argument to investigate at least one person. At the time it had made sense, talk to someone who worked with Shiro and see if they knew something. Plus, Keith would see what a dumb idea it was to track down people who probably had no clue what was going on, and then they could do things his way--the proper way. Maybe this was why he had never wanted a partner before. This was basically rushing in with no plan, he hated it.

“And what then? Are we just supposed to go up to the first door we see and go ‘Knock, knock. Hey any chance you got a tall Asian man hiding in there?” Lance rapped on a nearby wall to demonstrate. “See? No-”

The face of a brown-skinned man popped out from behind the wall “Hello?”

Lance screamed in his face.

Immediately, the man glanced at them, yelled, “Oh no!” and darted back inside. Before he could completely escape, Keith rushed in to hook his fingers over the edge of the wall and pulled.

“Hold it! We just have a few questions.”

“No, no, no! This is bad. Very bad!” the man rambled, desperately grabbing and pulling at Keith’s hands, but the door wasn’t budging. That’s right the ‘wall’ was an actual goddamn camouflaged door, painted to perfectly blend in with the grimy bricks of the alley. If it wasn’t for the two angry men currently having a tug-of-war match with it, Lance wouldn’t have believed it was there at all. How the heck had he managed to find it!? The whole thing was ridiculous, and he needed to take a moment to breathe and take in the scene. Then the man decided to start prying away at Keith’s fingers directly, and Lance had no choice but to approach before someone got hurt.

“Hey, uh...Dr. Slav?”

The man whipped his head around so fast that it was amazing he didn’t fall over. “Who wants to know?” Is it you? Wait! Don’t tell me!” his shrill voice rose another whole octave.

“Yes. I’m Lance McClain and--”

“Ah!” The doctor threw his arms up and Keith used the chance to further wedge himself into the space. “You told me! Now there’s a 29.4% chance we’re all doomed!”

“Would you stay still, we aren’t here to hurt you,” Keith spoke slowly through gritted teeth, probably about two seconds away from grabbing the doctor and shaking him. “I just want to ask about Shiro.”

“Wait! Shiro?” Dr. Slav perked up, all his previous fear disappearing in an instant as he leaned closer. “Are you Keith?”

“Wh-- Yes?” Keith looked distinctly uncomfortable with the blatant invasion of personal space, but stood his ground.

The doctor only hovered closer, face nearly pressed against Keith’s. “Ah! You are! This raises our chances by 5% if not more. Unless...” He pulled back, momentary delight fading to pure dread. “...What color socks are you wearing!?”

“My...socks?” Keith looked as baffled by the question as Lance felt. What did socks have to do with anything!? Apparently they were a matter of great importance as the doctor even went as far as trying to pull off Keith’s shoes in his urgency to see the garments.

“Just tell him already!” Lance shouted, finally fed up with all this.

“They’re red!”

“Oh! Wonderful!” Dr. Slav clapped his hands together, mood shifting back to ecstatic as he mumbled something about alternate realities and green socks and how some other unlucky universe was doomed. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but the doc moved onto the next topic like a human whirlwind; inviting them inside and refusing to answer any questions until they agreed.

“I see why Shiro didn’t like this guy,” Keith muttered as they entered and Lance had to hold back a snort. How could anyone tolerate Dr. Slav for more than a few minutes? The fact that Shiro somehow survived interacting with him through the course of a whole workday was a miracle. Still, the doc was supposedly brilliant, supposedly, even if he seemed to have a few screws loose.

The doc’s abode left a lot to be desired.

Quite simply it was an organized mess. The small residential space didn’t amount to much more than a bathroom, a kitchen/dining area, and a hall leading back to what had to be a bedroom. As they walked, Lance caught glimpses of items stacked together; boxes filled with books, bottles, and other knick knacks, all arranged in a way that probably only made sense to Dr. Slav. If anyone else tried to copy the system, they’d never find anything, or the items would end up broken. They both got seated at a small, but clean, table, Dr. Slav quickly setting down hot cups of tea. Which tea and no dessert? Rude. Not like Lance was still bitter about the poor piece of stale pie back at the office. No siree.

“So have you seen my brother?” Keith asked, breaking the short silence.

“Oh, yes, yes. I saw him at the office yesterday.”

“Really?” Lance pulled a notepad out of his coat pocket, scribbling the info down. “When was this?”

“Hmm…” Dr. Slav took a long slurp of his tea. “8:15am, precisely.”

He didn’t get a chance to comment how oddly specific that was before Keith cut in. “What was he doing? Did anything seem off?”

“Hey! I’m the detective here.” Lance huffed. “But yeah, what he said.”

“Nothing odd.” Dr. Slav stroked his stubbled chin as he finished his tea. “I recall that I was chatting to him about particle entanglement. You must know how we’re all made up of billions of these tiny things called molecules, well if we could find a way to deconstruct an object down to its most basic cellular level, transport them thousands of miles away, put it all back together, and voila! It would be revolutionary!”

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed. “Shiro?”

“Blah, I’m getting to that. No one has the patience to listen to my theories, except Shiro. At least _he_ sometimes stays and listens to my fascinating concepts. But did he stop and listen yesterday? No. He made an excuse and left before I could finish.” He humphed and crossed his arms. “I planned to find him after lunch to continue our conversation, but I could not locate him at all!”

Lance felt a short thrill run through him, maybe this visit wasn’t going to be useless after all. “So he disappeared?”

“I do not know. But I could not find him then or the rest of the day.”

“How about anyone else? Did you ask?” He jotted all this down, starting to form a rough timeline. If Shiro really hadn’t been seen since yesterday...that was a long gap to fill, and the chances of finding someone dropped significantly. Not that he would mention that to Keith.

“Pwah. Why would I? Shiro is the only one that bothers to listen at all.”

Nevermind, this was getting them nowhere. Lance ignored the temptation to make a cutting remark and decided to try one more question. “Is there anything else you could tell us? Like where he might have gone, or any sort of hint _at all?_”

“Nope, nothing at all. But I will be sure to let you know if I think of something,” Dr Slav replied cheerfully.

Keith moved first, standing up with a quick ‘thanks for the tea’ even though he had barely touched it. Lance hurried to follow suit. While he could have stayed behind to try and pry more information out of the doctor, he really did not want to be left alone with him. A bust, a complete and utter bust.

_Well maybe the visit hadn’t been a total loss. Thanks to Dr. Slav they could at least be sure of one thing, that Shiro had made it into work yesterday and until around midday had performed his duties as normal. The only question was where to find the next lead, though his ‘partner’ probably had thoughts of tracking down the next innocent bystander, and--_

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Huh?” Lance snapped out of his thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe?” Honestly he didn’t know how or when the monologue habit started. Some of it could be blamed on the influence of actors like Humphrey Bogart and George Sanders, and the cool detective personas they presented, but mostly talking helped to sort out his thoughts. Sure he knew it annoyed others, but he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

“You got a weird way of helping,” Keith replied with a hint of a smile on his face. Despite everything he had gone through so far, and whatever else he was dealing with, it was a bit impressive that he could still afford to find any humor to the situation.

“Hey you can take my assistance or leave it,” Lance commented.

“Do I have a choice?”

Of all the nerve! Who was he to make a- “Wait. Was that a joke?”

Keith hummed, eyes sparkling with mischief before he continued more seriously. “What now?”

The options weren’t great, but that didn’t mean they had already run out of choices, he wouldn’t be Altea’s greatest if he gave up so quickly. “Well before you suggest going after your next target, I have a better idea.”

“And that is?”

“We’re going to go to a _reliable_ source of mine and see if he has any info. That’s our best bet right now.”

Though he had vaguely expected a complaint, none came. Keith nodded and they walked off while Dr. Slav waved and shouted for them to come by again anytime. It was getting late, dusk setting in, but that didn’t matter. It was the perfect time to gather a little intel, his source was probably closing up shop right about now.

* * *

A warm sweet scent drifted across the street, a silent enticement to any passerby. Even at this hour the Balmera Bakery managed to emit a welcoming air of fresh baked goods, as if the place would continue to be open through the night and not closing in the next ten minutes. Lance strolled through the door, holding it open until they both were inside.

Originally, the bakery had served as an old train car, rescued from the graveyard and repurposed to its current form. Passenger seats had been ripped out, reupholstered, and made into booths. All the walls had been given a fresh coat of tan paint to give it a homey look. About the only way one could tell it had been a train car--aside from the obvious exterior--was the way the sides formed a narrow walkway between the tables. Lance thought it made things cozy. Two other people, aside from them, had decided to come in at this late hour, but he paid no further notice to them.

“Lance?” the owner, his good buddy Hunk, called from behind the counter. “Lance! Good to see you. Who’s this?”

Before Lance could do something stupid like accidentally answer the question, his partner spoke up for himself, “Keith.”

“Good to meet you.” Hunk smiled and nodded, a look of concentration on his face. One could almost physically see the gears turning in his head as he glanced at the strange person tagging along with Lance. Most likely if they didn’t do something soon, they’d be getting a whole barrage of awkward questions.

Lance decided to clarify. “He’s a client, Hunk. It’s for a case.”

“Oh...” Hunk visibly deflated. Gosh he was so predictable. Sweet, amazing guy, but he _loved_ gossip. It was a well known fact that any secret was rarely, if ever kept, but that didn’t stop people from confiding in him anyway. All he had to do was offer them a cup of coffee, a slice of pie, an open ear, and they practically spilled out their troubles. Whether someone had cheated on their spouse or stole $2 from their mom’s push, he heard it all. Add the fact that he looked so trusting and people often found themselves revealing things they never planned to say; it was all the right traits for an information broker to possess.

“Anyway we’re here for some intel. Oh and got anything good left while you’re at it?” Lance swung himself into a nearby seat, one leg stretched out across the whole bench.

“Only some banana cream pie, which--”

“Not a chance.” Lance’s face twisted up. Why had destiny decreed that he had to remain pieless today? He wasn’t picky, he truly wasn’t, but banana cream was one of those so sickenly sweet types that even he couldn’t tolerate. Now if it had been something like banana pudding…

“I’ll take it,” Keith offered, seating himself on the opposite bench. “And tea too. Please”

“You got it!” Hunk rushed off to fill the order. Well wasn’t that just a cruel twist of fate? Why was Keith the lucky one? Or maybe he didn’t care? Or maybe there had been something Lance did to deserve this, or hadn’t done? He _could_ try and be nicer to his siblings, maybe. ...Nah.

“You actually like that stuff?” he said instead.

“Yeah. It’s not bad.” Keith shrugged.

Though the way he shoveled it down when it arrived suggested otherwise. Hunk had barely gotten the drinks--tea, and coffee for Lance with cream and sugar--and the plate on the table before Keith grabbed it and took the first bite.

So Keith had a secret sweet tooth? That was hilarious. “Geez, you act like you haven’t eaten in days,” Lance quipped.

“Just today.” Keith swallowed. “Had dinner last night. Didn’t have time later.”

“What…? You need to take better care of yourself.” It wasn’t _that_ serious, not like Keith was starving himself, and certainly nothing more than a skipped meal or two. But the nonchalant way it was mentioned bothered him.

“I usually do.” Keith finished the dessert and shifted his attention to the tea, adding some creamer and two sugar packets. He glanced up and must have seen Lance’s skeptical look. “What?”

“Color me shocked,” Lance said, taking a sip of coffee and sputtered when the liquid burned the tip of his tongue.

Keith snorted at the instant karma and continued. “Were you going to say something like I don’t seem the type? That I’m the kind of person who would work myself to death if others didn’t force me to stop?”

Well he _had_ been ready to say something to that effect, but now it sounded stupid. Guess it was easy to take one look at Keith, see the thin but muscled form, the scruffy hair that only turned wilder when an occasional nervous hand ran through it, and assume he needed help. Like he was a defenseless stray kitty or something. Yeah, that’s what it was.

“I know better than that. If I don’t take care of myself, I’m going to be useless,” Keith explained in a way that implied he thought Lance was still doubting him.

“Hey, I get it.” Great, now he couldn’t stop picturing Keith as a grumpy, fluffed up kitty-cat. It didn’t help how he sat slightly hunched up, like he was visibly on guard at all times. It was a sure sign of someone who had lived in the city for too long, and chances were it wasn’t a very good one, maybe in a section close to the slums. Definitely not one of the really bad sections, his outfit was a bit too nice for that. But before he got any further into his deductions, he was interrupted when Keith sneezed. Honest to god it sounded exactly like a tiny kitten; he nearly lost it.

“Now what?” Keith raised an eyebrow after wiping his nose.

“Nothing. Bless you.” He quickly hide his smile. No way was he gonna think that was cute. There wasn’t anything cute about Keith.

“I mean does your friend know something?”

“Oh! Right, Hunk.” Lance looked around to spot Hunk see off the other remaining customers and only when they were safely out the door did he approach the table again.

“Sorry. What did you need to know?”

Keith took care of explaining the basics, offering the same information he had told Lance, including a photo of his brother.

Hunk took great care of it, tilting and even flipping it over in his examination. “Well I don’t recognize him, but--”

:So this was pointless too.” Keith scowled and stood up, only to fall back down with a confused plop, Lance’s foot tangled up in his legs. “What are you--”

“Now now, don’t be in such a rush.” He grinned and motioned Hunk to continue.

“Oh, so as I was saying, I haven’t seen him, but there’s been a lot of chatter. Groups of people traveling at weird hours of the night. Lot of rumors about where they’re going, but nothing solid,” Hunk trailed off, leaving behind a thick air of discouragement.

“So you think Shiro could be in this group?” Lance asked. It seemed like a possible lead anyway. He wasn’t the only missing person by far, so if the kidnappers kept using different locations before transporting them who knew where, it could explain all the weird sightings.

“That’s my best guess from what I heard.”

“Where.” Keith gripped the table, tense and ready to bolt as soon as a location was named.

“I can only narrow down a few spots, but there is definitely someone who could help more.”

Lance’s stomach curled in dread. “Hunk, buddy, my man. You aren’t referring to who I think you are, are you?”

In response Hunk glanced down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. Yep. That confirmed it.

“This just isn’t my day.” Lance groaned lowly, tempted to slam his head on the table.

Keith gave a puzzled blink. “What? Who is it?”

“You’ll find out.”


End file.
